


the time between our fingers

by keriito



Category: Pop'n Music (Game)
Genre: Coma, Grief/Mourning, Injury Recovery, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 01:24:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7338895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keriito/pseuds/keriito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Retsu hasn't woken up yet; he's been asleep for days and days.<br/>But you will wait, no matter what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the time between our fingers

**Author's Note:**

> 11.30.15 - 4.13.16  
> lapistoria; post-retsu's rampage, before fighting jade.  
> memories.

It's as if you haven't heard his voice in years.

His screams still echo in your head: pained, rough, broken. Pain. Pain, there was so much of it, and you can barely clench your left fist without your entire arm burning with ache.

Staring at the white ceiling, vaguely you recall the incident. The dark lab, the sweet giggling of a young boy, red flames. Blood and tears, shouting and crying. Somehow, you saved him. Somehow.

With that alone, it isn't enough. You saved him, but is he still alive?

Sleep and the dull aching pain quickly catch up to you before you can think about it anymore.

 

———

 

The next time you wake up, you are met with the orange eyes and white hair of Weiss.

Blinking slowly, you regain consciousness. It doesn’t even take more than a moment, your mouth has barely formed the words, when he looks at you in deep understanding and says,

“He’s alive.”

Stunned, you repeat it back to him.

“He’s...alive?”

Weiss nods once.

Weakly, you drop your head back onto the pillow, your chest tightening.

“Oh…”

And then it hits you. Slowly, in waves.

_He’s alive. Retsu is alive. I saved him. He’s okay._

A pain indescribable, a sorrow and longing so aching within your chest, wrenches itself from your rib cage, and you let out one single sob, followed by another. You begin weeping against the pillow, your whole body limp like a rag doll, only your chest rising and falling. And slowly, the tears bring you back to asleep, too tired to cry anymore.

 

———

 

Weiss walks out of your room, leaving you with a food tray. It's rice porridge, something warm and easy to digest. Rinka sits by your bed, Hiumi standing behind her, one hand against their cheek.

"Fuga-kun," Rinka tries, in a small voice, but you don't exactly know how to respond. With a barely audible sigh, you pick up the spoon and begin eating.

"How does it taste?" Hiumi asks you after a moment, their voice soft, gentle. They're smiling, but even you can see how their lips tremble.

"Good."

You haven't been able to speak properly since you woke up; small words and sentences seem to be the extent of what you can do at the moment. You're not really sure what there is to say.

"I wonder if Retsu-kun will be fine? He isn't eating, is he..." Rinka muses quietly, as if to fill in the silence.

 _He must be exhausted_ , you think, but keep to yourself.

"He's in a," Hiumi looks down, straightening their ponytail anxiously. "coma, so... That wouldn't be possible."

Something hangs heavily in the room, sagging from the weight of sorrow. Tears prick at the back of your eyes, and you can hear Hiumi shifting nervously, the way their voice shakes, desperately trying to remain composed. Even Rinka, the one of you who has always been the brightest and sunniest, looks as if she's about to cry.

"W-Well!" She starts, smiling and gripping her tiny fists. "When Retsu-kun wakes up, let's bring him some snacks from the convenient store! I'm sure he'll be missing them!"

And for some reason, the idea of doing that, something so painfully mundane and familiar, hits you square in the chest, and your hand no longer wants to move the spoon to your mouth. Instead, you're shaking as you place it down, hunching over the tray, the tears beginning to fall.

 

———

 

After a day or two, you're able to receive visitors other than Hiumi and Rinka.

Still hooked up to an IV with bandages wrapped around your body, you wonder if you really should be seen like this. But still, you smile, if only to put everyone else at ease.

Albi stops by first. He smiles at you, inquires about your injuries and Retsu. Like usual, his presence lifts your spirits, and you assure him that you'll be okay.

"I brought something for you, Fuga-kun." He says, reaching down into a grocery bag on the floor next to him.

"For me?" You respond, slightly surprised, and watch Albi pull something out: a small red charm, with a golden tassel.

He places the charm in your hands gingerly, closes your fingers around it with his paw. You look at him in disbelief, something warm and expansive filling your chest.

"It's a charm, for you and Retsu-kun. Please, get well soon."

 

———

 

You get visits from your classmates after that. Syo and Yuzuru come together, a bit too loud for a hospital, but they fret over you and ask how you're doing.

"I wish we were allowed to see Retsu-kun." Syo pouts, and Yuzuru nods firmly, solemn.

You give them a soft, pained smile.

"Yeah."

 

———

 

After they leave, you resume rolling your yo-yo around in your hand, comforting you, grounding you. During the gentle light of the evening, you hear a single knock on your door, and Weiss is there. Blinking, you sit up, and are met with the golden orange eyes of Retsu's grandmother. Small and youthful in stature, but dignified and powerful. But there is an air of sorrow around her, and you can feel it.

You struggle to find the right words, but your throat is dry, leaving you speechless.

She walks forwards as Weiss closes the door, her hands behind her back as always. Akane sits at the edge of the bed, folding her hands in her lap.

"Fuga-kun."

And she looks at you, directly into your eyes. There are no words to say, but you feel it— her gratitude, sorrow, acceptance— like she knew this was going to happen one day. Her eyes seem to say, _"i'm sorry, thank you for saving my grandson, for not leaving him, thank you, i'm sorry"_

Something warm ripples through your chest, breaking you down and pushing the tears from your eyes. With a smile, she places her hand on yours, gently.

"Thank you," she says, her voice choked up just the slightest bit. "Please, keep loving him, as you have."

And you nod, tears falling and chest shaking, as you lean into her. With an embrace as warm and comforting as a kindled fire, she holds you, for what feels like a long time.

 

———

 

A day later, you’re allowed to leave the hospital room and walk around. Weiss tells you to not leave the hospital yet since your rib is still healing, and you somewhat begrudgingly agree. You miss working the dry cleaners from home, wondering if your mom is having any trouble handling it on her own. But even if you were fully mobile, you don’t know if you’d even have the mental or emotional energy to do something like that.

The sunlight of April shines through the hallway windows, casting blinding reflections off the white tiles of the floor and walls. It’s so bright, and yet, you feel a vague darkness still.

The first thing you do is visit Retsu.

You were told to only visit him for a few hours, no more than two or three. You know they don’t want him to wake up while you’re there, if only so he won’t see your injuries, knowing that he inflicted them in a state out of his own control.

Gently, you push the door open, entering slowly.

Retsu lays in the bed, wrapped up in bandages and hooked up to IVs just like you were, but he does not move. His normally heated and flushed skin is a soft pale, his freckles stark against the bridge of his nose. The heart monitor beeps slowly in time to his scarce breaths, his chest rising and falling almost imperceptibly. He sleeps, unaware of the world and time passing around him, even the gentle sunlight that falls on his face.

Walking forwards, you don’t let your eyes leave his face. His gently sleeping face, fiery red hair brushed across his forehead, splayed against the pillow. Pale skin, pale lips, soft freckles. His body temperature is much lower than usual, perhaps a few degrees below 100. His fire is dulled, barely flickering, but it’s there. He’s alive.

You nearly trip on your own feet on your way to his side, but when you stand next to him, you take his hand in yours, gently. Weakly, you fall to your knees, hold his hand to your forehead, and breathe.

 

———

  
You're leaning against the wall, not doing anything in particular. Retsu is asleep. Alive, but asleep. You miss his voice, you miss his warmth, his smile and tears. If only you could hold him in your arms, but Weiss told you that his body is still recovering. He'll be fine, but he's recovering.

You barely noticed how bad your wounds were when you woke up in the white hospital room bathed in the sunlight of mid-spring. But the pain is nothing, nothing compared to the waiting. Waiting for a single breath, a flutter of his eyelashes, a beep on the monitor. His voice, calling your name. If only.

But you wait, rolling your yo-yo in your right hand.

 

———

  
It's afternoon, raining, the next time you're with Retsu. He's still asleep. You woke up a few days ago, but Weiss still won't let you go home yet. _Within a few days, Fuga-kun,_ he said, _That's when you can leave_.

The soft _shaaa_ of the rain is somehow lulling to you, but it does nothing to brighten your mood. You watch Retsu, certain he must be feeling even less like waking up when it's raining.

The raindrops on the wide window cast quickly moving shadows on his bed, and you exhale, looking back over at him. There are bandages on his face, his arms, his neck, his chest. You know a lot of his injuries were from you. From fighting back. That one was from your yo-yo, this one from a strong gust of wind, this one from pushing him over to the floor. He didn't respond at all then, and vaguely, you wonder if he'll feel the pain when he wakes up. If he'll get mad at you for injuring him.

 _Probably not_ , you think, and Retsu's smile comes to mind instantaneously.

Grimacing, you look down and bite your lip. You haven't really looked at your own wounds. You know— you _know_ , they're bad. They'll take a few weeks to heal, and scars will be left behind. Your entire left arm had been scorched several times, and a particularly bad burn wraps itself around your wrist. They're mostly second degree burns, so all of it hurts, with every movement. You try not to move unnecessarily, if you can. The arm warmers were essentially ruined beyond repair, so you can't wear them to cover your arms, to cover your injuries. _I'll have to get new ones as soon as possible_ , you think, gingerly touching the puckered skin.

You run your fingers up your neck carefully, the skin still raw and not even close to healing.

You haven't looked in a mirror yet.

Every time you use the bathroom or attempt to wash your hand, you find that it's hard to actually _look_ at what the damage is. You've caught glimpses, and you've seen the pain and sympathy that sparks through Weiss' irises when he sees you. When Rinka and Hiumi first saw you, they covered their mouths, and broke out into tears. Their reactions alone are enough to tell you.

The worst of it is on your neck and left arm. Your sides are covered with purple bruises, some discolored. Nothing was broken except one of your lower rib bones on the right. You can hardly do anything else other than standing, sitting, walking, lying down. If you dropped your yo-yo, you wouldn't be able to bend down and grab it without collapsing onto the floor.

The burns and bruises speak for themselves, and anyone would be concerned. But even now, you don't feel an ounce of regret. The pain then, and the pain now— all of it was worth it.

You lift your head and look at his face through your bangs. He breathes slowly— so slowly, you have to hold your breath waiting. But his breathing is a constant reminder— he's alive, he'll be okay, he'll be back soon.

Soon, Retsu will wake up, and he'll smile at you, raise his hand excitedly in greeting, call your name; soon, everything will be fine again, and you'll wait, no matter how much it hurts or how long it takes.

_(you've already forgiven him.)_

 

———

 

You’re discharged from the hospital about a week later.

Unsure of what to do, you wander around meaninglessly. The town seems much quieter now during the day, or maybe you’re just imagining it. It seems school has been cancelled for the time being, so none of you have to worry about attending. You don’t work either, being too distracted and emotionally unavailable. Your mom looks at you with contempt and worry, and shoos you away, saying, “get some rest, Fuga”.

Instead, you walk around your tree five times, look at the blue sky through the spaces between leaves, toss your yo-yo, practice a trick or two.

You can’t stop thinking about Retsu. Of course you can’t.

As the days go on, Weiss has gotten stricter about how long you visit him. He knows how much you want to see your friend and partner, but he’s also clearly worried about Retsu. He won’t be ready, and you know it’s because of your injuries. You hate the fact that they’re there, if only because they’ll make Retsu sad. You don’t want him to feel sad anymore.

With a sigh, you lean against the firm bark of the tree, closing your eyes.

_I want to see him._

 

———

 

You visit Retsu every single day, up until a week later, two weeks after the incident.

You’re on your way to see him as usual, when you hear a strange commotion coming from the direction of his room. The sounds of excited chattering, voices in disbelief. Curious, you walk faster down the hallway, reaching his room.

Several of your friends are in the doorway, all talking, and you push them aside in a daze, entering the room without a word. But you stop.

In the bed, sitting upright, is Retsu, awake. You lock eyes with him for one, long second, his scarlet eyes wide and lost, and then something happens.

You watch his confused expression shift into one of horror, sadness, despair.

And then he screams, and screams, and screams.

You’re shoved aside by someone, Suiri maybe, and Weiss is raising his voice as you watch Retsu curl into himself, grabbing fistfuls of his own hair, shaking and screaming his voice raw. Stumbling backwards, your skin goes cold, you don’t know how to respond. Everyone is talking at once, saying _“why is Fuga here?” “is Retsu still possessed?” “he’s not supposed to be here” “he shouldn’t be here, not yet, it’s too soon”_

Shakily, your breathing picks up, anxiety and adrenaline pooling in the pit of your stomach as you are left cold. You’re pushed out of the room, and you don’t fight back, you’re too shocked to do anything else.

Retsu is still screaming. He saw your wounds, the wounds inflicted by his own hands. Everyone is talking, trying to calm him, but it won’t work. Only you can calm him, and he can’t even look at you right now.

You lean against the wall to the left of the door, hands shaking and tears filling your eyes. Slowly, you crouch down and bury your face into your arms, and suddenly you can’t stop crying. It feels as if your chest is being hollowed out, only sadness and pain left, and every moment longer you hear Retsu, you want to cry more and more.

But you don’t leave. Instead, you’re taken away by someone, before Retsu can tire himself out and fall back asleep.

 

———

 

The next day, you look at yourself in the mirror for the first time.

Your bruises are still discolored, but they’re fading slowly. The burn scars remain on your arm, and your rib is healing as well. You have new arm warmers now, and you wear them, comfortable once again.

Gently, you trace the skin of your neck, where the burn marks in shape of handprints are.

With a sharp inhale, you close your eyes and throw your white scarf around your neck.

 

———

 

Silently, you roll your yo-yo back in forth in your palm. Toss it into one hand, roll it back up, repeat. You sit quietly, staring at the floor, waiting.

After yesterday, apparently Retsu had shouted so much he knocked himself out again. He’s been sleeping for a while now, but he’s alive, and you remember that; you repeat it to yourself over and over, like a mantra. You feel as if at any moment you’ll begin to cry, as if you haven’t done enough of that in the past few weeks. But you’ve always been weaker than you appear to be, and like this, you can’t help but let your facade break again and again.

You’re watching the uneventful floor beyond your hands when you hear a soft voice, familiar and inquiring.

“Fuga…?”

You look up, breath stopping.

Retsu is looking at you, with an expression you’ve never seen before. His confusion, recognition, worry. As if he can’t believe you’re right there.

Without any regard for the chair, you stand up so fast it knocks against the wall, and quickly reduce the space between you and him to zero. Tightly, you hold Retsu in your arms, leaning against his small and warm body, beginning to weep into his shoulder.

“Fuga,” Retsu repeats, his voice cracking, and you can’t say anything; you shake your head, more cries escaping you, what should be his name, but instead are incoherent. He starts crying as well, but he holds you, as tightly as he can with his unused arms. He presses his hands to your back, and, you can feel it, his warmth, his fire. It’s back, and he’s alive.

He’s alive.

 

———

 

You don’t let Retsu out of your sight afterwards. Well, to the best of your ability.

Hiumi and Rinka don’t want to let him out of their sight either, and the three of you almost obsessively fret over him; it’s decided to take turns to walk him to the restroom, or bring him food. As his closest friends, it’s only natural you’d all want to stick to him now, and Retsu seems somewhat pouty about it, but he doesn’t refuse.

The three of you keep him company, talking nonstop, or taking care of him. His usual fire has returned, but something new is there alongside it, something you can’t quite identify yet. You see it in his eyes when he looks at your bandages, or when he stares out the window, or when he begins falling asleep. You don’t question it for now, but you know.

 

———

 

As promised, Rinka holds out a bag filled of Retsu’s favorite convenient store snacks. You and Hiumi smile, as his face lights up and he takes the bag into his own hands, listing off every item inside. He looks back up, an uncontrollable smile on his face, and he drops the bag to tug the three of you into his arms.

Rinka squeaks, Hiumi gasps, and you make an odd, incomprehensible noise, but you all start laughing after a moment, holding onto each other, tightly.

Things will be okay now.

Your fire is back.

 


End file.
